


In Celebration of New Friendships

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 05:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6317176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minerva is asked to be Albus Severus' godmother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Celebration of New Friendships

**Author's Note:**

> **Challenge:** Written for the 2016 HP_Goldenage's Salt and Pepper Fest. 
> 
> **A/N:** Thanks to Sevfan and Emynn for the beta, and to the mods for their encouragement.

~

In Celebration of New Friendships 

~

The chapel was crowded when Minerva arrived. She knew everyone, of course. In fact, she’d taught almost all of them. Minerva sighed. She hadn’t expected any of her contemporaries to be there, so why then was she oddly disappointed to find herself in a room full of her former students?

Straightening her spine, she huffed quietly. She had no reason for melancholia. She was a self-sufficient woman and these people were no longer her students; she wasn’t responsible for them. She would be fine. Although they all seemed to be friends. For a moment, Minerva felt outside the group, set apart, outside their conversations and their lives.

Brushing that thought away, Minerva looked around at the crowd. 

Molly and Arthur were there, as were the Lovegoods, Ron and Hermione, Percy, Bill and Fleur, George and Angelina, and even Charlie. The last Minerva had heard, he’d built a home in Romania. Evidently, his new nephew’s christening was worth a trip back.

Minerva inclined her head in greeting first to Kingsley, the former Minister of Magic (and former Head Boy), and then to Augusta Longbottom. At least Augusta had been in school with her, although several years had separated them. Neville, tall and handsome, was helping her into a pew. Not that she seemed to need it. 

Minerva bit back a smile as Augusta shooed Neville away, pointing him towards Hannah Abbott. _Hannah Longbottom,_ she corrected herself. She had been invited to the wedding but had not attended. Not a lot of her former students invited her to their events, although Potter had. Perhaps she’d been too intimidating a teacher? She’d sent the Longbottoms a nice gift, though. 

“Professor…Oh, I’m sorry, _Headmistress_ McGonagall!” Harry looked pleased as he approached. He’d grown, and was no longer the scrawny lad she’d so worried for during his school years. “I’m so glad you could come.” 

Extending her hand, Minerva accepted Harry’s warm handshake. “Well of course I came. This is quite an honour. And you should call me Minerva, Harry.” 

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think I can,” he said, tone apologetic. “You’ll always be Professor McGonagall to me. And you’re the one doing us the honour.” He winced as a high-pitched scream pierced the air. “And that would be James making his displeasure known. Apparently not being the centre of attention is quite the tragedy.” 

Minerva raised an eyebrow. “I certainly hope you’ll have trained him out of such habits by the time he comes to Hogwarts.” 

Harry grinned. “I’m sure we will. And actually, I’m hoping we get him trained out of it in a few more weeks. I’m not sure my ears can take too much of that. Plus, it’s not great for sleeping.”

The screaming stopped abruptly and Minerva exhaled. 

“And that would be Ginny bribing him with food.” Harry smiled apologetically and gestured towards the front of the chapel before offering his arm. “Your seat is up there. May I escort you? And then I should really check on Ginny, James, and Al.” 

“Thank you.” Accepting the proffered arm, Minerva walked with Harry. “I’ve been reading good things about you in the papers,” she said as they moved. “They say that you’re slated to be Head Auror soon.” 

“Well, it _is_ the _Prophet_ ,” Harry reminded her. “As a rule they get more wrong than right, although in this case, they are correct. They offered me the Head Auror job and I’ve accepted. It won’t be official for a few more weeks, though.”

“How wonderful.” They had reached the pew and Minerva released his arm, taking her seat. “That’s sure to keep you busy.”

“More than,” Harry agreed. He got a faraway look in his eyes. “When the war ended I wasn't sure I wanted anything to do with the Ministry, but after seeing all the things that can go wrong when corrupt people are in charge, I couldn’t turn my back, you know.” 

Minerva nodded. “I understand, and I’m proud of you, Harry. You and your generation saved us from a madman, and you’re working to make our world a better place. Quite admirable.” 

“Headmistress McGonagall! Hello.” 

As she’d been speaking to Harry, Hermione Weasley had approached. Minerva smiled at her in welcome. “Miss Grang…excuse me. Mrs Weasley. How good it is to see you.” 

Hermione blushed. “It’s wonderful to see you, too. And I’m afraid there are far too many Mrs Weasleys here for that, Professor. Hermione, please.” 

Minerva inclined her head. “And you, of course, should call me Minerva.” As Harry excused himself to go and check on his family, Hermione sat down beside Minerva. “Was there something you needed, Hermione?” 

Hermione leaned in. “I was wondering if there were any staff vacancies at Hogwarts?”

Minerva pursed her lips. “Not at the moment. Why? Are you considering coming to teach?”

“Considering it, yes.” Hermione patted her stomach protectively. “We’re expecting again, you see, and, well, the life of a Ministry solicitor is so busy, I thought perhaps teaching would allow me more time with Rose and this baby when he or she comes. Perhaps something part-time?” 

“Oh, my dear.” Minerva shook her head. “I daresay for someone as…dedicated as you, there could be no such thing as a part-time teaching position. And teaching is not for someone looking to cut down on the stress in their life. Must I remind you of your own school years?” She shuddered. “Students always find a way to add stress to their teachers’ lives.”

Hermione sat back, a thoughtful look on her face. “Well, hopefully no one is trying to kill any of the students at the moment.” She smiled wryly. “But I do see your point.” She sighed. “I just don’t think I’m prepared to give up working yet. But Molly is convinced that I need to stay home and raise my children, and I thought perhaps a change in careers to something less intense would placate her—”

Minerva made a rude noise. “I admire Molly Weasley, but her way is not the only way.” Reaching out, she clasped Hermione’s hand. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my almost fifty years of working in a career I love, it’s that you must pursue your own heart. And much as I’m sure you’d be a good teacher, your heart is with being a solicitor. So make it work, Hermione. Rearrange your schedule, shorten your days if you must, or leave if you feel so inclined, but do what makes you happy.” 

Hermione’s mouth was hanging open, and when Minerva finished she smiled brightly and, quite unexpectedly, hugged Minerva. “Thank you,” she whispered. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear.” 

Minerva patted her back awkwardly until she pulled away. 

“Sorry.” Hermione wiped her eyes with a handkerchief she’d pulled from her pocket. “I do get hormonal sometimes.” 

Someone cleared their throat. “Is everything all right?” Ron Weasley, standing by their pew, smiled at Minerva. “And hullo, Professor. Good to see you.” 

Minerva smiled. “And you, Mr Weasley.” 

“Mummy!” cried the little girl he was carrying. She stretched her arms out towards Hermione.

Still dabbing at her eyes, Hermione smiled at Minerva. “I should go. But you are coming to the reception at the Burrow after Al’s christening, aren’t you?” 

Minerva hadn’t yet made up her mind about that. “We’ll see,” she finally said. 

“Well, I hope you do.” Standing, Hermione took the little girl from Ron, bouncing her on her hip in a practiced movement. “And who’s my good girl?” she cooed as they walked away. 

Minerva straightened her shoulders, folding her hands in her lap and staring straight ahead. While she wasn’t one for outward gestures of affection, it had felt good to hug Hermione, to almost feel as though they were friends. That was one thing she missed as she’d grown older. Contact. Fewer people wanted to touch her. As if she was frail, or old age was contagious. Minerva almost snorted. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

Startled, Minerva looked up to see Horace Slughorn smiling down at her. “Horace! I had no idea you’d be here.”

Horace manoeuvred around her, settling next to her in the pew. “Goodness, of course I’m here. I accept all the social invitations I receive now that I’ve retired, especially from Slug Club alumni.” Leaning close, he murmured, “You never know when they’ll forget you and stop sending them, eh?” 

Minerva raised an eyebrow. “That’s certainly an interesting approach. Doesn’t it get tiring?”

“It’s exhausting.” Horace turned to face her, his expression uncharacteristically solemn. “I’m getting old, Minerva.” He sighed. “If I stop going to things, stop visiting people, soon they will forget about me, and I’ve no family or friends to speak of. It’s all well and good for you younger folks, but you’ll see how it is when you get to my age.”

Minerva rolled her eyes. “Nonsense, we’re not that far apart in age,” she snapped. “And Dumbledore was far older than you, and he got all sorts of social invitations despite that. No one ever forgot him.”

“He was Dumbledore.” Horace shook his head. “One of a kind, that one.”

Minerva smiled. “Quite true. Anyway, if the invitations tire you, don’t go. Only attend the ones that are important to you. That’s what I do.” 

“But they are all important to me,” Horace said quietly. “My Slug Club children are all I have. I live vicariously through them, you see.” 

Sighing, Minerva clasped his arm. “You need to live for yourself, Horace. Not for others.”

Horace hummed. “And you, Minerva? Who do you live for?”

“Myself, of course.” She spoke as gently as she could. “We all have to be alone at some point in our lives, Horace. And some of us even enjoy it at times.”

“It’s all right if it’s by choice,” Horace grumbled. “But I don’t like being alone all the time.” He straightened up. “I say, we could help each other out.” 

Minerva raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Why yes! We could keep each other company.” Horace’s face was flushed. “I could visit you at Hogwarts for tea, and perhaps help out—”

“Horace.” Minerva narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to get your old position back? You are the one who retired, remember? I asked you not to.”

“Worst mistake of my life,” Horace grumbled. “Dunno why I let myself be talked into it.” 

Minerva sighed, hoping she wouldn’t regret was she was about to do. “Our new Potions master is a bit young. Perhaps you recall Theo Nott? Anyway, while he’s coping quite well, I have been considering hiring another Potions master. Strictly on a part-time basis, you understand, to manage some student overflow—”

“Oh!” Horace threw himself at Minerva, hugging her. Why was everyone hugging her today?

Minerva struggled to catch her breath. “Horace—”

“This is wonderful,” Horace was babbling. “I promise not to let you down, Minerva—”

“Yes,” Minerva wheezed. “All right. Now please let me go.” 

Horace drew back and Minerva drew a deep lungful of air. “You shan’t regret this,” he promised. “Thank you.” 

Minerva was already beginning to, but Horace’s wide grin and smiling eyes did make her feel rather pleased with herself. A depressed Horace Slughorn did no one any good.

“Shall we begin?” 

Looking up, Minerva saw the priest standing at the altar. Slowly, the murmuring of the gathered crowd stopped as people settled.

“Welcome, everyone to the baptism of Albus Severus Potter.” 

As the priest spoke and read a bible verse, Minerva tuned him out to consider the things Horace had said to her. Perhaps it was time to allow herself to be more open, accept more invitations. She did enjoy being social for the most part. And anyone she didn’t want to see, she wouldn’t. While she had no desire to live vicariously through anyone, it would be good to be more involved in her students’ lives. She blinked. They were her friends, actually. Not her students.

“Let the godparents please come forward.”

Straightening her shoulders, Minerva rose, moving forward to stand by Harry and Ginny. On the other side stood Kingsley, who had risen at the same time. Apparently he was to be the other godparent. Minerva smiled. She thoroughly approved. 

Young Albus Severus was asleep in his mother’s arms, although she was sure that would change as soon as the cold water touched him. James was standing beside Harry, holding his hand.

After a quick lecture about their responsibilities as godparents, the priest took Albus from Ginny, moving towards the baptismal font. And Minerva was correct. The moment the cold water ran across his head, he woke, screaming, his chubby arms flailing.

The priest smiled. “Always happens,” he said softly to Ginevra as he patted Albus’ forehead dry with a towel. 

The rest of the ceremony passed without incident, and soon it was over. 

“I hope you’ll come by my parents’ for the celebration,” Ginevra said to Minerva as everyone began moving towards the door. “We hope to have all our friends there.”

“Oh yes,” said Harry standing beside her. “Please do.”

_Friends._ Both Ginny’s and Harry’s eyes shone with sincerity, and slowly, Minerva smiled. “All right. Yes, I believe I shall stop by for a bit,” she said. “I do enjoy spending time with…friends.”

Ginny beamed. “Wonderful! See you there!” 

Exhaling, Minerva started for the door, her footsteps light as she moved past everyone. People stopped her to chat along the way and this time she let them draw her into their conversations, no longer holding herself apart. Friends. Yes, she thought as Neville, smiling, came up to her, Hannah at his side. Yes, she could handle that. 

~


End file.
